


To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

by asimbelmyne



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Coping, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 09:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asimbelmyne/pseuds/asimbelmyne
Summary: She hated the hole his death had made within her heart.





	To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This was really, really hard to write for a multitude of reasons. Hera's so incredibly strong, but she's also a mother, a widow, and a woman. I wanted to write something that encompassed all three of these things, and I hope I achieved my goal.

_"Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."_

_― Kahlil Gibran_

* * *

Hera's thoughts had never been entirely her own, too loud to turn off and too painful to ignore, inciting sleeplessness until it had become a bad habit, something she had acquired as inefficiently as the callouses on her hands or the scars etched into her skin. She had grown accustomed to it, reluctant to discover whether she'd see bits of blue beyond her viewport instead of emptiness, casting light across her sheets, on top of her pillow, and into her eyes. Kanan's shoulders had blocked off the sun before her hands had taken his place, reaching into the spaces he'd left behind like the dregs of a weak tea. His presence hadn't gone away. Hera didn't know how to put an end to her grief when it still felt so raw, allowing his voice to skim the surface of her skin like a balm, a memory that continued to lull her to sleep as effortlessly as the sound he'd make when she'd kiss him. Her eyes had turned red from staying up so late, red from crying, red from exhaustion, and red from remembering how blue his stare had become before it had been engulfed in flames.

Jacen's cry pierced her thoughts and Hera wiped away her tears, smoothing her hand across Kanan's side of the bed. He was still so young, prone to sleepless nights like she was, sobbing loudly enough for the both of them. There was little she could do to soothe him, but the sound of her voice helped when nothing else worked, something he'd understood as being comforting from the moment she'd first held him, pressed tightly against her heart in an attempt to ease her own pain. She was still shocked by how little he resembled her, looking every bit like the man she'd loved so fondly. The colour of his eyes spoke louder than anything she'd ever vocalize, bluer than Lothal's skies, a place she'd often remember when Kanan's death had become too much to bare. The hole he'd made within her heart had grown larger than the hole he'd made in her life. She'd fall asleep at the base of Jacen's crib in defiance of her grief, stretched out across the floor of Kanan's room until her neck had begun to hurt, throbbing faintly in the flickering hue of his nightlight. Hera couldn't stop herself from gawking at him, losing herself within the rounded features of his face, wondering whether he'd inherit her penchant for flight or Kanan's affinity for the Force. Their love had felt rushed at times, but never insincere. Everything they had done together had been been of great risk, not only to themselves, but to others.

Hera rubbed her eyes, staggering from her room as strait as a bowstring, determined to stay strong in the face of it all. Kanan would have scolded her for acting so stoic in a time when support was so desperately needed, but his absence in her life had formed a wound she was reluctant to share. She knew that her feelings would eventually abate when her heart didn't feel so ravaged, but the loss of those feelings was something she had grown deeply afraid of. Sleep had become an unnecessary obligation in her day-to-day life, depriving her of time spent with Jacen, time spent on her own, and time spent mulling over every decision she'd made since Kanan's addition to the Ghost. He had deserved so much more than what she had been prepared to give him. She regretted her stubbornness, her fear of their future, and the look she had seen in his eyes on more than one occasion, an expression she'd notice in the moments before his lips would brush against her own. There were many things in need of repair in her life, moments fixed in time that she'd never find the energy to set strait again, but Kanan hadn't been one of them.

Jacen's crying began to cease as Hera rounded the corner. The absence of it felt strange to her and she paused, straining to hear what might have stalled his cries, but the answer to her inquiry resonated through her ears as loudly as a bell. She could hear Kanan speaking from behind Jacen's door, a recording of Chopper's from a time long gone, back when their conversations had been as frivolous as their flirting, accompanied by soft words and subtle looks. If she listened carefully enough, she could make out the quiet whirring of Chopper's mechanics, Jacen's small but even inhales, and her own panicked heartbeat, thrumming in time with the ache Kanan had left within her chest. She pressed her face against the door and listened until her heart didn't feel so heavy anymore, lulled to sleep by the man she'd loved more than flying, more than memory could properly replicate, and more than the Rebellion's mediocre attempts to mend the hole he'd left behind. Hera didn't mention what had happened the following morning, nor did she delve into Chopper's memories in search of Kanan's voice. She memorized the sound of Jacen's breathing instead, counting every inhale so that Kanan could hear her, making her feelings known in every way possible.


End file.
